


Just Anxiety

by Ghostie_the_Schrodinger_Girl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Asthma, Hospitals, Major character death just in case, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sickfic, its a wip, very self insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostie_the_Schrodinger_Girl/pseuds/Ghostie_the_Schrodinger_Girl
Summary: It was just a pesky little asthma attack."You need to calm down."
Kudos: 16





	Just Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> I am slowly recovering from a trip to hospital, so heres something that'll be updated slowly.

It was just a tickle in his throat, one Gavin knew well. Asthma was a bitch and waking up in the dingy bar off 5th did nothing to help. The smoke hung thick in the air as the bartender scraped him off the bench. “Use a rag mate.” Gavin gagged at the dirty wet broom that was brandished at him.

“It’s 8 in the goddamned morning, git.” Old biker men were not easy to please. The brit stumbled his way out the door. The sun needed to shut up. And his legs needed to remember how to leg. Stupid Jello feet.

Gavin stumbled again, falling to his knees. Okay, not ideal, but still not too bad. He coughed on a wheeze before realizing what was happening. “Buggar me…” He dug through his pockets for the inhaler.

How he could be shot in the head and get up in a few hours but not be cured of a pesky thing such as asthma was beyond him. What fucking luck. At least modern medicine was better than the old days. Taking a puff was immensely better than leeching the ghosts from his blood.

Breathing deeply, he waited for the shaking to kick in. The clock on his phone read 08:34, so he still had almost an hour before he had to be back at the penthouse. Gav kicked himself into gear and headed down the street again.

At 08:45 when Gavs breathing hadn’t gotten better, he decided to make a pit stop at the emergency room. He just needed some steroids and maybe an IV for the hangover. Another puff. Another block. He mapped out his route from his current position to the nearest hospital. Not the best, and certainly not his usual, but a hospital nonetheless.

It was nearly a quarter past 9 when he waltzed into the emergency department. His knees were turning to jelly and the wheezing was loud as hell, but Gav still greeted the nurses at reception with a smile. There was a line of course, annoying thing. But a nurse quickly grabbed his elbow, guiding him to the front.

“We just need your ID hon. Get him back to RESUS 3.” The ladies were kind but he didn’t like how they were pushing him around.  
“Just… Asthma. ‘M fine.” He wheezed. They nodded to him, pulling to one of the close rooms. It was a big fancy one with a lot of equipment. Really, it looked like an operating room with the big moving light and how everything was against the walls.

"So you're asthmatic?" A nod. "Ever had anything like this before?" Another nod, take the nebulizer from the nurse and sit down. "Have you taken anything for it?" A squawked wheeze and the inhaler from his hand ended up in the nurses.

For having never been to that hospital before, they communicated very well. Within a few minutes his shirt was off, one nurse listening to his lungs while the others got vitals. Really, this was routine. Had been for that past year at least. 

09:32 and something didn't feel right. The doctor was there, in the door asking about something or other and talking with the nurse behind his shoulder. But then, the middle aged man was looking at him in the eye. Like right in the eye. And the lights behind him were so bright now?

"If you do that again, I'm going to have to stick a tube down your throat." Oh, it was the doctors hands pushing against his jaw. In fact, holding his entire bloody head up.

Gavin sat up, taking the nebulizer once again and nodding adamantly. "No sodding way." He greedily took the air from the nebulizer and sat himself straighter on the bed.

The nurses took turns watching the brit as he watched the clock. With the first treatment over, he had expected to feel better, but really he just felt shaky. And still very hungover.

They left him alone in the room for a few minutes when his ears began to ring. It was like he was inside a smegging church. He couldn't feel his hands, but there was the low ding calling for the nurses. 

"I dont… feel right…" his accent was thick and slurred as multiple people in uniform looked up at the monitors.

"It's okay honey. Do you have anyone we can contact cause it looks like we might have to put you upstairs." The nurses eyes had something to them that were soft. No one was panicking, it was just anxiety.

Gav pulled out his phone, opening it up to Geoff. "He's my american." A dopey smile and his head bounced. 

Out for a second then. It was fine. The shaking and the palpitations were from the drugs.

The doctor came back again, preparing an IV and another breathing treatment. His face was more serious as he shone the light in Gavins eyes. More questions about his drugs and allergies, of course no I didnt have shellfish it's too early for a cocktail didnt seem to be enough. 

"You need to calm down a little bud. You're anxious and it's not helping you out right now." The nurses busied themselves behind the doctor. He didn't even jump when the needle went in.

"Come on back buddy. That's right. You with me now?" Gavins tongue was leaden as he stared wide into the brown eyes. He tried to look around, there were so many more people, but the hands were cement in place. Even his arms were being used by others. 

"I need to know what you took, alright buddy. Did you take it this morning or last night?" Gavin could only shake his head because no I didnt do any gammy drugs and also, his boys off 5th keep him away from trouble. Someone would know if something had been slipped into his drink.

“It’s just anxiety, you need to calm down.”  
He couldn't help it. Everytime he tried to move, the world blurred. He was hot and his throat was closing up. He tried to speak, but it only came out as a pitiful wheeze.

The doctor, what was his name, kept yelling medical garbage as he was held down. Alarms were beeping to his right and someone was yelling to his left.

“He’s not breathing.”

“God I’m going to have to tube this kid.”

“Push fentanyl.”

It's just anxiety. You need to calm down.


End file.
